


Fyndor

by stargate4lyfe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Human Pets, Lab rat, Science Fiction, Slavery, Underage Pets, other planets, underage slaves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:31:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9385340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargate4lyfe/pseuds/stargate4lyfe
Summary: Adam always knew he was adopted. He always knew he was different. He just didn't realize HOW different...





	1. Chapter 1

Every kid dreams of being a hero. Flying through the air to save the plummeting airplane, or holding up a falling building with one hand. Every kid watches movies and reads comic books and fantasizes about the day they stop the bad guy with their laser vision and save the entire planet. 

I did. I just never thought that I would actually save the planet. 

 

I started getting a little suspicious around the age of twelve when I realized that I was the only kid in my school that couldn't breathe under water. And then there was gym, where everyone else could run circles around me, and throw my weight like I could toss a piece of paper. And something about being outside... it just made me sick, dizzy, light-headed. 

My best friend, Natalie, always said I was a nerd which was why I sucked at anything physical whatsoever. 

But in the classroom, I prevailed. I made the top scores on everything, lead every group project and was always voted president for any club I joined. For some reason, I was the most intelligent person in my year. 

When I turned thirteen, I tripped getting off the train after school, racing Natalie home, and fell on my arm. It hurt, but not terribly bad, and turned black and was bent oddly. I ran into my house, unlocking the door and calling out for my adoptive father. 

“Paul! Paul!” I shouted out, running to his lab. He was a scientist for the government, but he kept his work mostly in our great room off the side of our main house. Paul had taken me in when I was baby after my parents died in the war. Our house was hit by a missile, but my bedroom had been mostly untouched. They'd found me in my crib, crying, and Paul volunteered to adopt me. And no one would mistake us for biological father and son... Paul had sandy blonde hair and fair skin, and I had olive skin and dark, curly hair. His eyes were bright blue, mine were hazel. I had dimples, he didn't. 

“What's wrong, Adam?” he frowned, meeting me halfway. Then, he saw my arm and his mouth opened. “Oh no. Okay, alright, it's fine.” he nodded. “Let's get you on the table...” he took my backpack and dropped it where we stood and then led me over to his examining table and patted it twice. “Hop up here.” he helped me and then gingerly took my arm, gritting his teeth. “Okay, yeah. It looks like you've broken it.” 

“Broken it?” I grinned. “My arm? You can't break your arm, Paul.” I rolled my eyes. “I'm not stupid.” 

He made a face and shook his head. “No, most people can't. But you, Adam... you can.” 

Furrowing my brow, I scoffed. “What do you mean, I can? I'm not different.” 

He made another face and my mouth opened. “Unless... I am. Am I? Paul...” 

Taking a deep, deep breath, Paul nodded, slowly. “Adam, this is going to hurt,” 

And then, he pushed my bone back in to place and I screamed like a little girl. 

 

Paul and I didn't really finish that conversation. All he said was that I was special and different from the other kids, and that I didn't need to worry about it. And so, I trusted him. 

And three years later, on Birth Day, I got the rest of the story. But... I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start with the night before. 

Natalie and I were sitting on the edge of Lake Bern, watching the stars. They were kind of faded out from the lights of the city, but at least the sky was clear of clouds. 

“You think I’ll like Girls’ School?” she asked. 

I shrugged. “About as much as you like school now.” 

She smiled, knowing I was right. Natalie was certainly not a nerd. 

“Besides, you already know the worst part. Not being around me.” 

“Stop it.” She giggled, twirling her dark, curly hair around her finger and gazing back up at the sky. “You’re the one who won’t be able to handle life without me. Surrounded by boys? You won’t last ten minutes.” 

“I can be a guy.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’m tough.” 

“You’re a geek, Adam.” she sighed, laying back on the grass. “They’ll pummel you in gym without me there to protect you.” 

“And then ten years later, when I’m at the Science Academy with my dad, I’ll build a robot to beat them up.” I laid beside her. 

She scoffed. “That’s what all the nerds say.” 

I made a face. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I mean, I know it’s an exciting part of life, growing up, but still. I wish you were a guy.” 

Wrinkling her nose. “I wish you were a girl.” 

We looked at each other for a second and for the first time I started to realize what Nat leaving really meant. 

A voice behind us spoke softly, and we both nearly jumped. “Miss Natalie? Your father wants you to come home.” Her slave had stepped over to us and was now waiting patiently, hands folded in front of him. He was a year or two older than us and had been serving her family for as long as I could remember. 

“Thanks, Kane.” She looked back at him and then back to me. “Let’s go get some Birth Day Eve dessert.” Her eyes grew wide and I grinned. Their cook, Mari, made the best cakes in the entire world. “Do you know what Mari’s making?” she asked him.

He furrowed his brow. “I think I heard talk of Peach Cake. But I could be wrong.” He smiled at her as her smiled turned into a huge grin, knowing it was her favorite. “Mr. Adam, can I take that blanket for you?” 

I glanced down to the bundle in my hands and then back up at him, nodding. “Sure. Thanks, Kane.” Handing it over, I watched him. He was taller than us, older than us, but still just a kid. No more than eighteen or nineteen. His hair was curly and blonde, his eyes bright blue, and he had dimples when he smiled, but I rarely saw them. He wore grey scrubs, the color all slaves wore, and had a thick metal collar around his neck that connected to his spinal cord. They were impossible to remove without an electronic key and were issued by the government. We spent a lot of time with him because Natalie’s father often sent him to watch over her. They had enough slaves for their large family to spare one. 

“Too bad your dad had to miss the fireworks.” Natalie wrinkled her nose. “I feel like he always misses everything.” 

I sighed, nodding. “Yeah. But his job is so unpredictable. They’re always discovering new things.” 

She made a face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong because my family loves having you around all of the time, but I just wish you had a mom too, you know?” 

“Yeah. Well. I don’t. Your mom will have to do.” I grinned, opening the front door and leading her in. 

Her entire family was there, already dishing out large slices of peach cake onto plates and passing them around. Natalie did have a really big family. Her dad’s parents were there, her two younger sisters, her one older brother, and an aunt and uncle. She was only missing her older sister who had only just been married and moved off. Slaves bustled around, serving glasses of water and cups of steaming coffee. Kane took our things and hung them on the coat rack and then joined in to help out. While I generally felt sorry for most slaves, Natalie’s family was very kind to theirs. I’d seen her father thank them warmly for working hard, ensure that they had warm coats on cold days, and even get down in the front yard and work with them. Her mother did just as much housework as the slaves did, and even the kids had chores to do. All of their slaves were well rested and seemed fairly content. I’d certainly never seen her father shock one of them through their collars or hit any of them. 

Most slaves were abused. I’d seen many teachers growing up shock the classroom slaves until they passed out or retched, I’d seen shop slaves be beaten until they were bleeding, and I’d seen families shouting at their slaves for the most menial of tasks. Paul had never owned a slave and swore to never own one for as long as he lived. Not just a slave – any human. He worked for the Academy of Human Sciences and I suppose when you spend all day running experiments and tests on humans it makes you feel sorry for them. He refused to buy one as a slave or as a pet, so I’d spent my life cleaning up, cooking, trimming our hedges, doing the laundry, and even making my own bed. It was rough. 

We all went around the table and told our favorites stories from the past year as we ate slice after slice of Mari’s amazing cake until Paul called, bidding me home. I hugged Natalie goodbye, knowing this was the last Birth Day Eve we’d ever spend together. It was sad and exciting all at the same time, but finally I walked out the door and headed home. 

 

Paul was there when I arrived, and he smiled at me, his bright green eyes sparkling and his blonde hair brushed to the side like he’d come home in a hurry. He was a very handsome guy and everyone wondered why he was still a bachelor. With a great job and that smile, he could’ve gotten any lady to convince her father to let her marry him. 

“So, how was the peach cake?” he seemed to be in a very good mood. 

“Brought you some home.” I told him, laying the plate on the counter. “Natalie’s family says ‘hi’.” 

“That’s sweet of them.” He walked around our island to get to the drawer with the forks. “Did you have a good day?” 

I nodded. “Yeah. I mean gym sucked, as usual, and some idiot threw a net on me in the locker room and left me stuck. But I made a perfect score on my History test, so…” with a shrug, I set my bag down and glanced over at the picture on the edge of our counter, the only one of its’ kind: me and my birth parents. 

Paul followed my gaze and then smiled. “You were tiny. Your dad could almost fit you in his hand.” He laughed, walking over and picking it up. 

“What were they like?” I looked up at him, crossing my arms on the counter. 

He made a face. “I’ve told you what they were like. Your dad was a doctor, like me, and your mom was the best cook in the provenance.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “Tell me something you haven’t already told me. Like what did they like to do?” 

“Like to do?” 

“Yeah.” My brows furrowed. “For fun.” 

“Oh.” He made a face and set the picture down, taking a bite of Mari’s cake and failing to hide how delicious it was. “Well, your mom’s cake was way better than this.” 

“No way.” I laughed. Saying she could cook was one thing, but saying she could out-bake Mari seemed like blaspheme.

“She could sing too, man could she sing.” He shook his head. “Her voice was like...” but he couldn’t find the words, so he just chuckled. “I don’t know. I was just incredible. And  
your dad, he was the best Uggen player I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re pretty good.” I pointed out. 

“And together, we were incredible.” He closed his eyes for emphasis before smiling back at me. “We never worked on anything big together, just some smaller, undocumented  
things. In fact, your dad never actually had a chance to publish anything, but he was working on something-“ 

“Big, yeah I know.” I sat up straighter. “You told me that. Something new, remember?” 

“You’re a little demanding tonight, you know that?” 

I chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just something Natalie said. About how I’ve had a weird life because I didn’t have a real family.” 

 

Paul suddenly looked hurt. “You don’t think you and I are a real family?” 

“No, of course not.” I shook my head. “Paul, you’re all the family I’ve ever needed. You were an amazing mom and dad, all while trying to change the world at the Science Academy.  
We were just a different kind of family.” 

Natalie had been right. The only kids with one parent were the ones whose mom’s had died. All of the students who’d lost a dad now had a step dad, or were living with their  
uncle’s family. But she’d also been wrong. I hadn’t missed out on anything. I’d had a great childhood. 

He gave me a small smile. “I thought about marrying, when I first got you. You know, so you could have a mom, but…” he pushed his mouth to the side, wrinkled his nose, and  
shook his head, “I just couldn’t find a woman good enough.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Well no one is perfect. And I’m moving out in a few years.” 

“Five years. That’s a long way away.” 

“But still! And then you’ll be alone and-“ 

“I was alone before I got you.” 

“Yeah, for like three years. Before that you lived with your parents.” I pointed out, then winced. We didn’t really talk about his parents either. They also died in the war against  
Earth, only a few years before mine did. I think it’s part of the reason he took me in, so we could be orphans together. 

“I was fine. And I will be fine. You guys will come visit me all the time and have little babies I can play with when I’m not saving the Fyndorian race through science.” 

Laughing, I nodded. “That’s right. Superhero Grandpa.” 

“Too young to be a grandpa.” He shook his head, also chuckling. Then, he let out a sigh. “Alright, kiddo. It’s late. Time for bed.” 

Yawning, I bobbed my head up and down in agreement. “Alright. See ya.”


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning, had some toast with some kale on it, drank an orange smoothie, grabbed my homework, and waved goodbye to Paul. “Happy Birth Day, Paul!” I shouted as I walked out. 

“You too, son!” he grinned and waved back, heading over to his lab. 

I caught the train, showed up at school, and headed to my class. I saw Natalie across the room, but it was our 16th Birth Day, which meant this was the year the Girls and the Boys separated and the Girls moved to the Girls' School. Even though she and I had said our goodbyes the night before, it was still nice to see her face that morning. She grinned and waved back at me, sitting down next to Amber Hilton and wrinkling her nose. Amber always smelled like fish and was chatty. I, on the other hand, was stuck next to Bryce Andrews, a bully who liked to push people around and talk during assemblies, resulting in everyone around him getting in to trouble. 

The younger students sat behind us, and the older boys sat in front of us. Finally, our headmaster took the stage and the chatter died down. 

“Good morning, students. And Happy Birth Day to you all!” he grinned, raising his arms. 

“Happy Birth Day!” we all called back.

“If all of the Sixteen-Year-Olds would please stand.” he motioned to us, and we stood. “Congratulations! Happy Graduation Day!” 

We all cheered and laughed and grinned back. Being 16 meant everything. We were almost men, we were mature, we could make decisions for ourselves. We were moving on in our education. The girls looked less pleased, but only because turning 16 meant moving to the Girls School and learning how to become a wife. They had to leave their families and then, when they turned 18, they would marry. But it was good. Natalie's older sister had just married and she seemed very satisfied... according to Natalie. 

“Now, you know the drill. Boys, join the older boys in the front. Girls, wave goodbye to your classmates and follow Mr. Boyd to the train outside.” 

 

It was odd, being without the girls. Our class was too rowdy, too noisy. Without Natalie, I found myself sitting alone at lunch and with no one to whisper to in class or laugh with during recess. Neither of us had considered this when we'd been excited about graduating. 

After science, my teacher called me up to his desk. “Adam, can we talk about your exam?” 

I nodded. 

“You made a perfect score.” 

“Wow.” I made a face. “That's a surprise.” 

Mr. Green raised his eyebrows. “Why is it a surprise?” he asked, but he knew the answer. 

“Because I didn't even study.” I rolled my eyes. 

He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. “You see, Adam, that's what concerns me. How are you making these fantastic grades without even studying?” 

I shrugged. “No idea.” 

With a huff of air, he shook his head. 

Clearing my throat, I asked, “Am I in trouble?” 

“No yet.” 

I gave a nod. “Awesome. So, can I go?” 

He shooed me away. 

 

When I came home that day, Paul was waiting for me at the kitchen counter with spinach juice. “How was it?” 

I made a face. “I miss Natalie.” 

He nodded. “I knew you would. But now you can make some guy friends, you know?” 

I sighed. “I just think it's stupid that girls finish school when they're 18 and marry and we don't get to finish until we're 20 and marry.” 

Paul raised his eyebrows. “You know the rules, Adam. Husbands must always be older than their wives, and being a husband takes more knowledge than being a wife does.” But there was something in his voice... something in his face. Something that made me think that he didn't believe his own words. 

Shrugging, I dropped my bag and began drinking. “It's just stupid. I want to be done with school. It's boring and I get in trouble a lot.” 

“Why do you get in trouble?” he frowned. 

I sighed. “I don't know. I just... I feel different. You know?” 

“We've talked about this.”

“Yeah.” I set my drink down. “And you've never explained it.” he took a breath. “So explain it now, Paul.” I raised my eyebrows. He opened his mouth, then shook his head. 

“No.” 

“Look, whatever it is, I'm sixteen now. I can take it.” 

His eyes softened, and he looked for a split second like he might give. But then he blinked and it was gone. “I'm going to get a treat for Birth Day. Cake or pie? Hmm?” he grabbed his coat and tilted his head with his question.

“I don't care.” I murmured. 

“I'll play it by ear.” he sighed, kissing my head on the way out. 

The second he was out of our front yard, I ran into his lab. I'd never gone in there alone before... never wanted to. But I needed to know, and somehow I just had a feeling that the answers I was looking for were on that computer. 

 

When Paul returned an hour later, he dropped the pie he'd bought right on the floor. I couldn't blame him. I’d be surprised too if I came home to find my adopted son unraveling my deepest, darkest secrets of betrayal and lying. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” I demanded, my voice quiet. 

He came over and sat on the floor with me, surrounded by files and folders. 

“How did you get that filing cabinet open?” 

But I just glared at him, and he caved. “I wanted to protect you. I thought that if you didn't know, you'd be safe.” 

I shook my head. “But I’m not. If they found out-” 

“They won't.” 

“But if they do...” I cut in, sharply. “Paul, you know what they do to humans.” 

He nodded, slowly. “That's why they won't find out.” 

Swallowing, I narrowed my eyes, holding back tears. “Why do you have me?” 

Paul took a deep breath. “It's a very, very long story, Adam.” 

I shrugged. “So tell me.” 

He nodded. “Okay. You know that I was on Earth during the war as a scientist. I was running tests on humans for a project. One of my test subjects was a man. He told me that he had a wife at home, a pregnant wife. I didn't want to be there in the first place, much less be torturing this poor man, but there were guards and I couldn't let him go. He knew Earth was doomed, so he convinced me to take his child with me when I left.” 

“That was my father?” 

“Yes. I helped him escape and when your mother gave birth she gave you to me. They both perished on Earth when it was destroyed.” 

I felt my chin trembling. 

“I wasn't trying to study you, Adam, although it happened, but only because I was raising you and trying to meet your needs. I never intended for you to become a subject. My only ambition was for you to grow up thinking that you were a Fyndorian and continue to live your life.” 

“You should have known I’d figure it out.” 

He nodded. “You're right. But you have to trust me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because. I've protected you this far. Treated you like a son. And I've never given away your secret... nor will I ever. I promise I will always protect you.”


	3. Chapter 3

I was dreaming of Earth when I heard the noise. It woke me from my vision of the parents I would never know and the land I would never see, and I was back in my bedroom, covered up by my comforter and resting my head on my pillow. The door opened, and Paul stuck his head in. Instantly, I relaxed.   
“You scared me.” I breathed out, sitting up. He turned on my lamp and sat at the edge of my bed.  
“I'm sorry.” he told me, softly. “Adam, remember when I asked you to trust me... I promised that I would always protect you?”   
Frowning, I sat up straighter. “Like an hour ago? Yeah.”   
He nodded, slowly. “Well, I need you to trust me now.”   
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. But just then, the door opened again, and in walked two men, dressed in Guard uniforms. And then a third, wearing a white coat. “What's going on?” I demanded, suddenly terrified.   
Paul took a deep breath. “These are some men from the lab. This is Doctor Vernon. He's going to be in charge of you now. Take over where I left off.”   
“Where you left off? What are you talking about?” I climbed out of the bed on the side farthest from the men.   
“Please don't fight them.” Paul stood, his hands out. “They have to take you and I don't want them to hurt you.”   
“No!” I threw my pillow at him, furious. “You said you wouldn't do this! You said-”   
“I know.” he was too calm. “I know. I'm sorry, but I couldn't keep you to myself anymore. It was wrong. Please just do this the easy way.”   
“No!” I screamed again, but the guards came at me, each taking an arm and pinning it behind me. I glared over at Paul, who looked exhausted and horrified all at the same time. 

They shoved me face-down on my bed and one of them pressed the back of my head to keep my nose and mouth buried in my comforter. I couldn’t breathe, and they used the distraction to pin my arms behind my back with padded leather cuffs. When I stood up, Paul was in the doorway, trying to hide tears. How could he do this to me? And why was he crying? He was the one who caused this!   
One of them stuffed a small piece of cloth inside my mouth and then put tape over my lips, essentially silencing me from any coherent words. Finally, it was time to go, but I wasn’t walking. If they were taking me, I wasn’t going easily. I kicked and wriggled to get out of their grasp, but they just dragged me towards the door. I spread my legs, placing my feet on either side of the door frame, but they just grabbed me under my knees and lifted me up.   
“Adam, stop.” Paul begged. “Please.”   
But I just grunted and tried with all my might to pull away.   
“Stop it, boy.” One of the guards grabbed me by the hair. “Even if you did escape, where are you gonna go? You think you’ll make it out of this house without us getting you? There’s more guards outside at every exit.”   
I stared at him, seeing how serious he was. He was right. Fighting would do nothing. So I went limp.   
They carried me downstairs, through the living room, and out the door. He was right, there were more guards waiting silently outside. I guess they didn’t want to wake up the entire neighborhood with the news that Paul Erikson had been harboring a human for sixteen years. If that was even my real age.   
They put me in the van, shoved me in and sat me on a seat. One of them reached over and pulled my seat belt over me, making sure it tightened all the way so I was unable to unbuckled myself, my hands pinned into the seat behind me. Warm bodies sat on either side of me, holding me back when I tried to wiggle or squirm.   
After about an fifteen minutes, the van came to a stop. I didn’t need to look up to know where I was.   
My entire life, I’d been in awe of this huge, prestigious, marble building. I’d dreamed of working here, of saving lives and discoveries new cures. I’d come to parties here and proudly watched my dad present his new finds to the world. After school, I’d sit bored in the break room while the brightest minds of the planet helped me with my homework. This place had been my second home, and now it was becoming my permanent one.   
We were at the Academy of Human Science. I coughed and wheezed, but still they shuffled me into the cold building through a side door, onto an elevator, and down a long hall with turn after turn until we stopped. A door slid open automatically, I could hear the hiss of the compressors. We walked down another long hallway and through a final door.   
We were in a long, bright, sterile bathroom. There were no lockers but showers lined the wall and clean white scrubs and towels rested on shelves.   
The two guards stopped and looked at me. One of them was taller and skinnier, with bulging muscles and dark hair. He narrowed his brown eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Now you were taught by Fyndorians, which means you’re smart. So listen up. You do what we tell you, and we won’t have a problem. You act like an animal, we’ll treat you like an animal. But we can do this civilized and it’ll be easier for everyone. Do you understand?”   
I swallowed, glancing over to see Paul watching from the doorway. Even though I was furious at him, I knew it would break his heart to see them shove me around any more. While I was furious at him about all of this, something inside me knew that he was right. I had to trust him. So, I turned back to the men and nodded. “I’ll play nice.” I promised.   
“Okay.” The other man gave a happy smirk, nodding and squinting his blue eyes. “We’ll try it out. I’m going to take your cuffs off. You’re going to undress and walk over to that corner. A long pole will come down and unfold. You’ll let it clip you. You don’t do those things, we’ll do them for you. Are we clear?”   
I swallowed, not imagining me getting naked would be part of this. But they were going to humiliate me no matter what I did, so I nodded and muttered, “We’re clear.”   
The cuffs came off, and I pumped my hands and rubbed my wrists. They let completely go of me, so I shed my clothes until I was stark naked and handed them over, walking to the corner, wandering what would happen now. The long pole came down, like they’d said, and it unfolded into a stick figure. But the end of each appendage had a cuff on it, and the neck area had a collar.   
I turned around, glancing over at Paul who gave me the tiniest nod in all of creation. So, with cheeks burning, I stepped back into it. The cold metal clamped around my wrists and ankles, and the collar closed around my neck, locking me into place.   
Immediately the ceiling began raining warm water, and the two guards came over with scrubs and began washing me. It hurt, the brushes against my skin, but I was locked in so tight I could barely move. I guessed that was probably the general idea. Hoping that the shower was hiding my tears, I kept my eyes on the ground and pretended that I was anywhere else in the entire universe. Like Earth, maybe. It was the middle of the night, and I was being forcefully showered.   
When they had scrubbed literally every inch of my body, they stepped away and pushed a button on a remote the dark headed guy pulled from his pocket. The water ceased and a ton of air dried me almost instantly, just like our shower at home. The two men walked over to me. “The locks will release you and you will put on these clothes.” The blonde guy held out a white pair of scrubs and looked me in the eye, questioningly. I nodded.   
They pressed another button and the cuffs disengaged. I stepped forward, taking the stack of clothes and putting them on quickly, noticing that there were no shoes. The first guard had stepped outside while I was dressing and came back with a wheelchair. Of course, it had restraints on the arms and legs of the chair and when I was dressed, he nodded to the seat. “Sit down.”   
I obeyed, cringing as the cuffs locked. The blonde guy stepped in front of me and squatted down to my level. “Any time you leave your cell you will always be transported on a wheelchair. Time spent outside of your cell waiting will be done so in a cage and experiments will be done in a chair or on a table where you will be restrained. These are the rules, and trying to resist them will lead to you being punished. Am I clear?”   
“Yes.” My eyes in my lap, I felt the jerk as we exited. As soon as we cleared the door I looked up, expecting to see Paul, but he was gone.   
We headed down a long hallway and then stopped in front of a door with a window by it. The dark headed guard rapped on the window and waited for a moment until another man appeared. “Collar issue?”   
“Yeah. He needs one.” The guard nodded over to me.   
The man behind the window frowned. “Where’s his?”   
“I’ll tell you about it at the bar later. Can you hook him up?”   
The guy glanced over at me and nodded. “Yeah, bring him on in and I’ll get him set up.”   
Humans on Fyndor can be one of three things: experiments, slaves, or pets. I’d only ever been to the lab with Paul once before and I saw them working on a human man, trying to find a cause for his blindness. Of course at the time I’d convinced myself that they were helping the humans. That my foster father was a miracle worker. Now I was rethinking everything.   
Slaves were different. We’d never had one, but I’d seen them in shops or offices, at Natalie’s and certainly at school. They would serve us lunch, clean our building, and assist our teachers in the classroom.   
But pets… that was easily the lowest on the totem pole. They were treated just like animals, caressed and petted, fed and played with, and walked about in broad daylight. It was so common that even though I’d always felt a bit sorry for them, I had never felt ashamed by it.   
The one thing, however, that all humans had in common regardless of their status: they all had collars. They were silver and metal, clipped tightly with virtually no seam, and a light lit up their status on the very front beneath their chin: E, S, or P.   
On the back was stamped “Property of ________” and their ID number.   
They wheeled me into the small room and shut the door behind us. They stopped my wheelchair beside a dentist chair and then the dark headed guy came around to me. “We’re going to release you and you will get onto this chair which will strap you down. He’s going to insert a chip into your brain stem that will connect to your collar, which you will wear for the rest of your life.”   
I swallowed. No one had ever told me anything about a chip in my brain.   
“What are you doing?” the third man scoffed.   
“It’s an experiment. We were ordered to treat him as an intelligent being.” The blonde explained.   
“They’re all intelligent.” The guy raised his eyebrows. “It’s just a matter of class.”   
The dark headed guy chuckled and clicked the button to unlock my cuffs. They stood around me as I came to my feet and then sat back down in the chair.  
The straps locked down around my wrists and ankles and waist. The head piece was raised to expose the back of my neck, and a strap locked down over my forehead. The third guy went to work. My chair was raised to my neck was at his eye level, and I felt a cold wetness as he cleansed the spot my chip would go in. a prick, probably a numbing agent, and then a cut. It hurt, but felt more like pressure than anything else. Suddenly, he was digging around in my neck, probably placing the chip. Stitches. And then a small bandage. Finally, ripped the plastic from a brand new collar and fitted it around my neck. It closed with a “click” and I knew that it would never come off again.   
There was a vibration as he took his remote and scanned my chip, connecting the two I was certain. He went over to his computer, typed up a few things, looked at the chart they’d given him on his way in, and then hit a button with one finger very hard.   
I felt another vibration, and they all smiled. “Alright. E for Experiment. Property of Human Sciences…” he inspected it quickly. “I put the sheet in the folder…” he handed the blonde guy my chart. “New number, 63072. His name is Adam, interestingly enough.” The guy smirked. “Since he’s the start of the forth group. He’s sixteen, so 4035 is his last name.”   
Paul had explained this to me before. When Humans are born, they’re born in sets of three. Alphabet One, Two, and Three. The first boy is named Aa, second Ba, third Ca, and so on until Z. And then it starts over, Ab, Bb, Cb, etc. There are three sets of those. Whoever buys them then take the first two letters and forms a name from it. I’m Ad. I could be Adam. 4035 is the year I was born in, so it’s my last name.   
63072 is my ID number. And just like that, I’m in the system. A belonging. Possession. Just like the collar he just unwrapped.   
“You can take him.” The guy nodded. “He’s been assigned to cell number 844.”   
The locks clicked and I hopped off, going right back down to my wheelchair.   
“No muss no fuss.” The blonde smirked. “I like this kid.”   
I glared over at him, but he locked my restraints and rolled me out. I was just trying to survive this night. 

The took me straight to Dr. Vernon. Wheeled me in, told me to get on the table, and locked me down. The doctor was only a few years older than Paul, but looked incredibly academic. He had rectangular glasses on and clean white hair.   
He grinned, coming over to me. “Let’s have a look.”   
I wasn’t a person to this man. I was his new discovery. His new big article he’d publish.   
He started from the head down, plucking a piece of my hair and handing it to an assistant, shining lights in my eyes, peering into my ears, nose, and mouth, inspecting my teeth, listening to the pulse in my neck, pressing his cold stethoscope against my chest, pushing against my abdomen, and checking my appendages.   
“He’s certainly human.” He nodded, pulling his needle from my arm and peering at my red blood. I gaped, never having seen it. Fyn’s have clear blood. I guess I had never bled before.   
“Let’s get started on all the prelim tests, but ultimately I’d like to work with Dr. Hill and turn this over to the Department of Psychology. He’s the perfect candidate for Nature vs. Nurture.”   
“Of course, Doctor.” One of his assistants who was taking notes nodded.   
“My plan is to loan him out once we’ve finished testing him here. He’ll spend three months with us, three as a house slave, then three as a pet. Then we’ll bring him back and assess his change.”   
I closed my eyes. This could not have been the life Paul imagined for me.   
“Okay…” he looked at his assistants when I opened my eyes. “You have the lab do a full work up, so finish up your samples. We’ll do the biopsies later.” He pointed to one man. “You work on his physiology.” He pointed to another. “And you find Hill.” He pointed to the final. “I want to get his whole story. I want to know everything about the human who grew up thinking he was a Fyn. Study him on the table today, draw up your plans and bring them to me for approval. Tomorrow we’ll get started.”   
There was a buzz as he left and they all rushed with excitement. The first thing they did was put a mask over my mouth and nose. The lights grew brighter, the noises became fuzzy, and I felt weird. Numb. There was pressure on my chest in multiple places, my neck by my carotid, my thigh, my wrists, and my ankles. They took my clothes off, took pictures, videos, examined every inch of me… and finally, when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, Dr. Vernon returned. By now, the numbness was gone, and I was fully aware of what was happening. I’d been given anesthesia and it was wearing off.   
“Time’s up. Guards, return him to his cell. Have him fed, make sure he gets plenty of sleep, and bring him back tomorrow morning at eight am sharp.”   
“yes sir.” The blonde nodded, coming over and unclipping my restraints. This time, it took both my guards to get me off the table and in to the wheel chair. I was exhausted, weak, and humiliated, and I wanted to go home.   
My cell had a sliding glass door that they wheeled me through. We were in a white room with a large shelf in one corner, two more to the left, and a one-way mirror lining the wall. The two smaller shelves nearly stacked on top of one another, but not quite. The lower one came out a bit, and I realized suddenly that it was actually a table for one. By the tabletop, in the wall, was a small window that I imagined I’d be receiving my meals from here on out.   
“You’re going to get up and go sit at the table.” They told me. “When you do, ankle cuffs will rise from the floor and attach themselves around your legs. Once you’ve eaten all of your food, they will release you. You will then come over to your bed,” he pointed to the bigger shelf, “and lie down. The cuffs will lock you down. If you do not fall asleep within twenty minutes, one of your wrist cuffs will inject you with a sedative.”   
“Anytime you begin to fall asleep and aren’t supposed to be asleep, lights will flash and sirens will go off, ensuring you stay awake.” The other guard went on. “That corner is a shower just like the ones you just had. Each morning you will shower yourself. Before any large procedure, however, we will come in after your breakfast, you will let yourself be attached to the rod, and we will wash you down to ensure you meet their approval.”   
“Because you’re such a high profile experiment, we’re assigned to only you. From now on we’ll take turns taking you. You have to meet their every expectation so things are done in a timely manner. This means that any disobedience on your part will be marked by the strictest of punishments.” He pushed a button on his remote and I cried out as my neck was zapped with electricity. Suddenly, it was over.   
My eyes teared up and I frowned up at him, confused.   
“That was a one. You disobey, you get a three. Are we clear?”   
I nodded.   
“Very good.” The blonde guy looked over at the dark headed guy. “Sometimes you’ll feel a small zap. It won’t hurt, it will just sting. That’s a warning zap. It means you need to hurry what you’re doing, you need to wake up, we’re on our way and you need to get ready, etc.”   
“Each morning before your shower you will place your old clothes through the food window. When you get out of the shower, a fresh pair will be waiting for you.”   
I nodded.   
“Okay. Orientation is over. You can get up.” The taller guy unlocked my cuffs and helped me over to the table, and then they took my chair over to the door. “So after your ankles are released, where do you go?” he checked with me.   
“To bed.” I answered, all too ready for sleep.   
“Very good.”   
They left, my door hissing shut behind them. I reached into the window, pulling out a tray. I wasn’t hungry at all, but I knew I needed to keep my strength up. The second I shut the window back, two tiny poles shot up from the floor with cuffs, locking on to my ankles, holding me in place. I sighed, noticing the camera trained on me in the corner. Picking up my fork, I took small bite after small bite, trying my best to hold down my food. I wondered what would happen if I barfed it all back up? Would that be seen as disobedience?   
It was flavorless and disgusting, but the sooner I finished, the sooner I could sleep. Laying down my utensils and draining my bottled water, I placed it all back into the window. A computer scanned the window, checking, and the there was a click and my ankles were released. The top of my one-way mirror suddenly went dark, and a small green scrolling text appeared. “Relieve yourself before bed.” I walked over to the toilet, went, washed my hands, and then walked over to the shelf and laid down. It was more comfortable than it looked… form fitting and soft but still firm. There were small marks where I was supposed to lay, so I placed my body on the chart. Cuffs rose and locked down onto me.   
And then I fell asleep with no need for a sedative.


	4. Chapter 4

My collar woke me up. It vibrated gently until my eyes were open. The cuffs released me and I went over to the toilet and threw up four times.   
The door swished open and the dark headed guy rushed in, pressing a button on his wristband. “This is Amauro. I’m in cell 844 and need a doctor for subject 63072. He’s vomiting.”   
Finally, I stopped and sat back against the wall, my body trembling and my face feeling as green as it probably looked. I felt tears pouring down my face and Amauro made a face. “I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and brushed my hair from my eyes. “They’ll be here soon.” 

One of the assistants from yesterday showed up with a medi-kit. Amauro sat me on my bed and the doctor took my blood, listened to my heart, and checked me for fever. They didn’t use restraints. They didn’t need them. I felt like I was dying anyway.   
“Give him the medicine.” Amauro sighed. “You know what’s wrong with him.”   
The doctor glared at him. “If I don’t assess him they’ll have my job. Even if I could just assume, and correctly, that he’s just stressed from the change.”  
Amauro rolled his eyes. “Even I could diagnose that. I don’t think I’ve ever had a subject who didn’t have this exact reaction.”   
“That’s why we put him to bed early. So we can still start on him tomorrow. What time is it?” he asked, jotting down notes on his chart.   
“Nine pm. He’s been asleep for four hours.”   
“Good. I’ll get him going on a drip and shoot him up with some medicine. It’ll keep him up for three more hours as it does its’ job, but he should be back out by midnight and can sleep until six thirty.”   
“Yes thanks.” Amauro was full of sarcasm. “Because I’ve never done this before.”   
The young doctor narrowed his eyes and then pushed a button on a remote. A section of the wall slide up and a closet of medical supplies was revealed. My guard locked me down and the doc started an IV on me.   
“Alright. By the time he wakes up he’ll be hydrated and calm.” He told my guard, then he turned to me. “I’m giving you two medicines. One is a mild sedative. It doesn’t put you to sleep, it calms you down. You’re feeling this way because you’re under a lot of stress due to this sudden change in your life. The second is a cleansing agent. It will go through your body and clean up your blood, your stomach, everything. It tends to burn and keep you awake. However, you’re also receiving fluids to hydrate you. Your collar will mute your vocal chords until the morning, so if you feel like screaming, go ahead.” He nodded. “It won’t bother anyone.” He smiled at me. “I’ll come check in on you in a few hours. You’ll probably be asleep.” 

The medicine did burn, but nothing was as bad as the loss of my voice. No matter how hard I tried, no sound came out. It was the strangest thing.   
At some point I woke up and I felt a million times better. The doctor had already unhooked me from everything, so when the locks opened I headed over to the table, took off my clothes wondering who could be watching, and set them in the window, then went over to the shower.   
The second I set food on the drain, the water started. A small box on the wall dispensed soap, and I scrubbed eagerly, wanting to get all the vomit and sweat off of myself. But as I scrubbed, I noticed something. In the places that had hurt the day before were small scars. Tiny, thin lines appeared with red around the edges. I’d been cut open. Angry, I breathed out. Now was not the time to be mad about this.   
A toothbrush and paste appeared, so I brushed my teeth.  
The dryer was the same, the clean clothes in the window as promised, and the ankle cuffs under my seat didn’t fail. My gaze landed on the food in the window as I skeptically removed it and set it in front of me. After spending half the night puking this up, the last thing I wanted was to eat more of it. I must have waiting too long, because my collar vibrated. Blowing out a huff of air and remembering how important their precious time table was, I started taking small bites and sips, suddenly glad for the bland taste.   
Finally I’d finished. I placed the tray in the window, felt the cuffs release, and like clockwork the blonde guy walked in with the wheelchair.  
Taking a deep breath and then letting it out again, I looked at him. “Can I see Paul?”   
He zapped me with a one. I cried out and stood angrily.   
“Obey me first, ask questions later.” He told me.   
I got in the chair, listened to the locks click, and then looked up at him. “Paul?”   
He made a face. “Paul is working on his defense for the review board. No one’s buying his story.”   
“What story?” I frowned as we entered the hallway.   
“That you were just an experiment.”   
I swallowed. I wasn’t sure what to buy.   
The first doctor I saw was the one assigned to my cognitive procedures. I was seated at a table with ankle cuffs exactly like the ones at the table in my cell locked around my feet. While I took tests in every subject known to Fyndor, including Fyn history, he was going over my old schoolwork and asking me about it.   
“Why did you choose to write about the oceans?’   
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”   
He furrowed his brow. “You do it often. There’s papers on its’ depth, poetry about it… short stories.”   
My eyes on the table, I shook my head. “I don’t know.”   
“Adam.” His voice was soft. “I don’t want to punish you but I’ll have to if you don’t begin answer my questions truthfully. I understand that you are tired and scared and feel like you are being humiliated, but this is your reality now and it will only get better if you work towards it being better. You’re doing very well with your guards. I’d like the same results from you in this.”   
I sighed and looked up at him. “I like oceans. They’re interesting. They’re big and vast and exciting.”   
He raised his eyebrows. “I noticed that you specifically talk about the Gordon Sea a lot.”   
“I like the color purple.” I told him.   
Jotting something down, he looked up at me and smiled. “Very good. You have high marks, you are very eloquent and express yourself intelligently. Today I’d like to focus on your story. We’ll talk for a while and then after lunch I’ll pass you along to Physiology. We’ll do this each day until Dr. Vernon has what he wants.”   
“What does he want?” I asked, looking up at the man.   
He made a face. “You’ll have your chance for questions later. For now, I’d like you to tell me about yourself.” 

I sat at that table until I’d completed my lunch. Dr. Hill, the cognitive doc, ate with me, continuing his study. Once we were finished, and I’d cleaned my plate to their approval, my legs were released and I was taken to my wheelchair.   
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Adam.” Hill smiled at me.   
“Wait. One more question.”   
Hill nodded to the guard.   
“The scars from yesterday? What are they from?”   
Hill nodded. “We placed sensors inside of you to track your heart rate, breathing, things like that. It’s better than hooking you up every day to monitors.”   
The blonde guy rolled me off.   
The Physiology guy was not at all like Hill.   
“Today we’re giving you a Physical. We’ll be examining everything, taking scans and x-rays. You will need to be truthful in all of your answers and follow my orders perfectly. Because these tests require you to be active, there are not a lot of restraints in this room. Therefore your collar will lock you into the area I assign you. If you try to leave the square foot area I’ve placed you in, you will receive a three. I am not shy about using my controller.” He held up my remote.   
I nodded, and Blondie unlocked my restraints.   
Standing, I crossed my arms and swallowed, wondering what we were doing first.   
“Get in the chair.” Dr. Knott (his coat was labeled, at least) told me. I went over and sat down, the locks closing down. “First we’ll do an eye exam.”   
It was certainly the most extensive eye exam I’d ever taken part in. He ran multiple tests on my pupils, placed burning drops in my eyes, and quizzed me.   
I was glad when it was over.   
“We’re going to the x-ray machine.” He nodded to the giant scanner and unlocked my cuffs. We went over and motioned for me to lay down. “Keep very still or we’ll have to do this over and over.” He told me.   
I obeyed, not wanting to be with this man any longer than necessary.   
Next was a CT scan, and then an MRI, both locking me down to my table. Those weren’t so bad, then. It was the fitness portion that killed me.   
“Now, Adam.” Knott turned to me as I sat up from the MRI. “We’re going to begin testing your physical activity levels. Because these tests are quite rigorous, and designed to push you, we need to make sure that if you pass out or fall that we have a way to keep you from being injured. Therefore, anytime you take a physical test, you’ll wear this.” He pushed a button on a second remote and suddenly I saw something flying across the gym and stop just before us. Attached to two long cables that seemed to hang from large fan blades was a black body harness. I felt Dean’s hands on my arms, running down to my wrist and pinning them behind me. Knott lowered the harness to the floor and moved it in front of me. “One leg here.” He pointed to a hole in the strapping, “Another here.” He told me. I stepped in, Dean keeping my hands tightly behind me at all times. Knott pulled the harness up to my waist, and then he and Dean worked to get the top over my shoulders before Dean took my hands again. Knott tightened the harness with metal clasps that seemed to only work one way, and they were on my back, impossible for me to reach. He finally used a small pin to lock each in place, and then Dean released me.   
“Try to take it off.” Knott told me. I frowned, knowing I wouldn’t be able to. I’d only just watched him lock it, but the sentence wasn’t a request, so I obeyed. Pulling on the straps hanging on my lower back, and trying as hard as I could to shrug the top off, I worked hard to release myself to no avail. Finally, I gave him a look like “Oh, gee, you were right.”   
He smirked and crossed his arms. “Go limp.”   
Taking a deep breath, I let my entire body relax. The second my legs gave out, the cables kicked in and pulled me about a foot off the ground. “Any time you fail to hold your own weight, the harness will keep you from hitting the floor. It’s completely mobile, so you can move forward and backwards… try to do a flip.” I did one, smiling. This was easily the most fun thing I’d experienced since coming here. He lowered me back down. “And you can spin in circles all day long.” He pointed to the ceiling and showed me that the cables would never cross because they were connected to blades on a ball and socket in the ceiling. I spun around a few times at his request and then he led me over to the fitness area.   
I ran on a treadmill for an hour. I lifted weights. I swam. Even in the pool, my harness could detect when I was and wasn’t capable of keeping myself afloat.   
And just when I thought I couldn’t move a single muscle more, he called to my guard. “He’s done, Dean. You can take him.”   
They worked to shred me of my harness and then Dean helped me into my wheelchair and took me back to my cell.

That night, when I laid down for bed, I glanced out the window. “Can you leave the cuffs off? I swear I’ll stay in bed and go right to sleep.”   
But there was a soft vibration on my collar, and the green words appeared on the scroller: “Sorry kid.”


	5. Chapter 5

My life went on like that for weeks. I woke up, showered, ate, met with Hill, talked about my feelings, drew pictures, took tests, and let myself be treated like a little child.   
One evening, when we returned to my cell and I had about an hour of free time, I found a stack of books sitting on the shelf by my bed. Amauro released me from my wheelchair and I walked over to it, picking them up. “What’s this?”   
“Books for you to read.” He pushed my chair out the door and then turned back to me. “Did you forget what reading was?”   
I rolled my eyes. “No.”   
“They’re your favorites. Dr. Hill had them brought up.”   
I reiffled through them. Adventures of Serrin Napa, Calling the Seas, Bernnie Owen. Setting them back down, I turned to him. “I’ve already read them.”   
“So read them again.”   
“Why would I do that?”   
He frowned at me.   
“I already know the ending.” My eyebrows furrowed.   
Amauro scoffed. “You’ve never read a book twice?”   
I shook my head.   
“You’re a weird kid.”   
Shrugging, I sat dwon on my bed. “I just have a really good memory.” Breathing out tiredly, I laid down and curled up into a ball.   
“Why are you always doing that?” he came over and looked down at me.   
“Because I’m tired.”   
“You sleep eight hours a night. Exactly.”   
“My body is tired. No one ever lets me sit or lay down how I want, so I use my free time to.”  
He scoffed, then thought about it. “Wait, seriously?”   
I nodded. “Think about it. I sleep flat on my back locked down every night. I sit perfectly straight all the time because I’m cuffed to the floor or a chair. Then I go and I run and swim or whatever for Dr. Knott in that harness which is not exactly the most comfortable thing on Fyndor.” Smirking I raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking me so many questions? Is this a ploy from Hill to get me to open up to someone even if it’s not him.”   
Chuckling, my guard shook his head and gripped the handles my wheelchair. “No, Adam. They’re not the only ones who are intrigued by you.” He gave me a smile and then walked out.   
Even though I was pretty tired, I knew that the second I started losing consciousness those stupid lights would flash, an alarm would sound, and I’d be wide awake again, so I grabbed my favorite book, Calling the Seas, and began reading it, still curled up on my side.   
Paul had given me a copy when I was five and began helping me read it. Something about oceans had always fascinated me, and he knew that. The main character was an older man named Cofe, and in the very beginning his wife dies from old age. He realizes that he’s spent his entire life doing nothing but what he was supposed to do, and decides to run away from his past, buy a sailboat, and discover the seas of Fyndor. The only problem is that he’s 97 years old.   
I think what I loved most about the book was the flashbacks, showing his life and Fyndorian history. When I was a kid, I loved history. Now it’s my greatest enemy.   
Even as a kid I’d known that I was different, and I wanted to break away from the norms, just like Cofe did. Of course, his wife did her duty and took care of him and the house until the day she died, but Cofe was the only one who really seemed to long for a change, because he was the man. His children were leading dull and meaningless lives, except for his one daughter who also was doing her wifely duty. But he just took off and sailed the high seas, running into all kinds of storms and monsters and pirating scallywags.   
Anyway, maybe it would be good to read again. 

“How do you feel about Fyndorians, Adam?” Hill asked me one day.   
I shrugged, allowed to walk now so I was pacing. “I like Paul, obviously. He was my father. I had a best friend, Natalie. I never really knew any humans, so I guess I like Fyns. Can I ask you a question?”   
“In a moment.” He nodded. “Do you still feel that way?”   
Scratching my head, I shrugged again. “I don’t know. I miss Nat, so I guess I still like her. I had other friends, I didn’t hate most of my teachers… so I guess not all Fyns are bad. I mean, I still don’t know any humans so I’m not like… Humans Unite or anything. But you’re certainly not my favorite people.”   
“Why is that?”   
“Because.” I scoffed, stopping. “I was having a perfectly good dream and next thing I know Dean and Amauro are washing me with scrubbers on poles and my freedom to pee when I want is taken away.”   
“Why does that upset you?”   
I didn’t understand why we were even having this conversation. They knew what I was going to say. “No one wants their freedom to be taken from them.”   
“You should have never had freedom in the first place.” He scrunched up his forehead. “You’re a Human and therefore have no rights.”   
With a glare, I started pacing again.   
“But no one told you that. Which is why you’re so unique. A Human who thinks he’s a Fyn.”   
“I don’t think I’m a Fyn. Other than my blood and genetic make up, I am a Fyn!” I threw up my hands, showing my anger for the very first time since I’d arrived here. “I was taught how to be a Fyn like every other kid. I couldn’t not be one even if I wanted to.”   
He smiled. “That’s what I love about you. Tell me more, Adam, about what it’s like to have your freedom taken.”   
Swallowing, I glared over at him. Normally we talked about what my childhood was like, how Paul treated me, what games Nat and I used to play, my favorite subject in school… now we were entering touchy territory and I was rested enough to not be happy. “You should know. You’ve been here the whole time.”   
“But I’m not experiencing it emotionally.”  
“Maybe I should let you sit in my seat at lunch and be wheeled around in my chair and get locked up in my shower. And I’ll ask the questions.”   
“Adam, we’re not being productive.” He told me in his serious tone. “I need real answers from you very soon or I’ll have to take away the small liberties I’ve afforded you. We’ll start by having you sit back down in your seat and resume with using the ankle cuffs.”  
My cheeks flushed and I shook my head. “Fine. It feels scary.”   
“Scary? How?”  
I shook my head. “Like I no longer have control over my life. Like if I piss you off you’ll just attach me to the floor. Like every time someone comes to get me it’s going to be to take me off to surgery.”   
“You’re afraid of being stuck and cut?”   
“I’m scared you’ll take part of my brain. Or a finger or a toe!”  
“So you’re afraid of being physically and mentally altered?”   
“Yeah. I guess.”   
“What else concerns you?”   
“I don’t want to be a slave. Or a pet.”   
“Your race is the lowest on the chain on our planet. Those are your only other options.”   
“Says who?”   
“Says our government. Your people have been studied and we’ve agreed that is the best place for them in our system. I can assure you it was a very thought out decision.”   
I swallowed. Who decides some lives are better than others?  
“What if I can’t accept that?”   
“Then life will be very difficult for you to live.” He told me. “What other emotions do you feel?”   
“Anger. At you all. At Paul for lying to me. Humiliation. For forcing me to be naked. For treating my body like it’s all just a thing you possess.”   
Hill nodded. “You do belong to us, Adam. Your body is our possession.”   
“Because you took me!”   
“You were never Paul’s to begin with. He’s the thief. We simply repossessed something that belonged to us from the beginning.”   
“I feel sad.” I went on. “Because I miss my room. My friends. Paul.”   
He nodded. “Longing is a difficult emotion. Have you been keeping the journal I’ve asked you to keep?”   
I nodded. Weeks ago he’d given me a small notebook to write in. He said I could do whatever I wanted, so I’d been drawing pictures of the ocean. Dean and Amauro would give it to me after dinner and let me write or draw in it for an hour and then take it back and send me to bed. Hill would read it at night, I imagined, which made his question purely rhetorical.   
“Good. Sometimes it’s easiest to express yourself on paper.”   
Swallowing, I turned to him. “My questions now?”   
He gave a nod.   
“Why can I break a bone but you can’t?”   
“That’s a good question.” He nodded. “Your bones are rigid, made of different substances than ours. Our bones are flexible and actually can break, but the force needed to cause that is so intense that I can only think of a couple hundred cases in history where it’s ever happened.”   
“What makes our blood red and yours clear?”   
“Something in the air.” He told me. “On earth, our blood appeared almost red, like yours, but more of a pink color. In your atmosphere, light reflects differently than in ours. So while your blood has pigments in it that create a red hue on both of our planets, our pigments are capable of reflecting different lights.”   
I frowned, feeling like he had to be kidding.   
“That’s why it’s harder for humans to breathe here. Not impossible, but harder. Our oxygen levels are lower than yours. That’s why your collar gives you an injection each day, and why Paul used to do the same for you when you were growing up.” He went on.   
“Who was the first human to ever come to Fyndor?”   
Hill smiled. “I think that’s enough for today. Dean?” 

That afternoon I spent with Knott. He’d been doing a lot of endurance tests with me lately, and today I was climbing stairs. My goals was to climb stairs until I passed out, so they’d checked my harness twice.   
I’d realized at some point how lucky I was that they were treating me like a Fyn. A week or so before I’d seen them testing a woman and they had handled it differently than they handled me. Instead of informing her about what was going on and what was expected of her, they simply locked her down and did the test. At least they were affording me the decency of telling me what was going on.   
The door opened, and I watched Dean enter and walk over to Amauro, who was spotting me along with Knott. I rarely saw them together anymore, but he came over and looked at me first. “I’m talking to Amauro right now. You’re not going to like what I have to say. We will answer your questions later. Do you understand?”   
“Yes sir.” I answered, breathlessly, as Knott upped the machine to go faster.   
“After this he needs to go back, take a shower, and go to bed without dinner. We need to get him up early, wash him, and let him drink some water. He’ll go to the OR after that and then we have the day off.”   
“They’re doing a procedure?”   
“Yes.”   
Now I understood Dean’s warning. I had a million questions.   
“His lungs are different from other humans so they want to check them out.”   
“Okay. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.” Amauro nodded, and Dean left.   
It must have been obvious how much I wanted to stop climbing and start questioning, but I just hardened my face and kept climbing.   
Knott smirked. “Good boy. Just keep walking.”   
i don’t know if it was my agitation from Hill or my terror at being cut open, but I grabbed the cables, pulled myself up, and kicked Knott in the face with both feet.   
Amauro zapped me with a three and I let go of the cables, experiencing their pull for the first time and they lifted me into the air, sensing my inability to keep climbing. Knott turned off the climber and took a breath, looking over at Amauro. “You’re in charge of punishments as decided by Hill.”   
My guard shook his head. “He’s never responded violently before. Let me pull up his chart.”   
“You people have a chart for how to punish me?” I demanded.   
“Adam, I’ll silence your vocal chords.” Knott warned.   
“I don’t care! You’re not cutting me open!” I swung on the cables, trying to squirm out of my harness and jump down. “Let me go! You can’t do this to me!”   
“Oh, here.” ‘Mauro pointed. “’If the patient becomes violent, shock him until he submits or becomes unconscious. If there is the opportunity to harness his violence into an active test, do so by shocking him until he is forced to exert energy to accomplish the task. If that is not successful, shock him until he loses consciousness and confine him to his bed for a twenty four hour period.’”   
“Climbing was obviously not working.” Knott pointed out.   
Amauro nodded. “I say I take him to his room and strap him down. After all, he’s so nervous about tomorrow that he’s going to fight anything we try to do to him for the rest of the day.”   
Knott nodded. “That’s fine. I can redo this test after he recovers.”   
“Recovers? I’m going to be so bad off I have to recover?” I demanded.   
Amauro pulled out his remote and shocked me until I hung limply in my harness. Then, as I watched, Knott lowered me to the floor. They pulled me out of the wires and dragged me over to my wheelchair, where I was locked in and taken back to my cell. Skipping shower and dinner time, Amauro released my locks and gave me a shock on one every second as I hurried over to the bed as fast as my tired legs would take me. He strapped me down and then made a face. “I’m really disappointed in you, Adam.” He told me. “I thought you were better than this.”   
“So did I.” I told him, weakly. “Turns out, I’m just a lowly human.”   
He sighed, and I gave him a small smile. “Unlock the cuffs?  
“Sorry, kid.”


	6. Chapter 6

They woke me up early the next morning. I could tell because my body always woke me up about ten seconds before my collar did, and this time I was wakened by my collar. Dean and Amauro were standing over me.   
“Strip. Shower.” Dean ordered.   
“Please.” I looked over at them. “Don’t let them do this.”   
“Don’t make us do this.” Amauro held up his remote.  
Swallowing, I nodded. They unlocked my restraints and I walked over to the table, taking my clothes off and going to the shower. The pole came down and I stood against it, allowing the collar and cuffs to hold me in place. They scrubbed and I cried. When it was over, I was given a pair of underwear only. Hungry, tired, in pain, naked, and humiliated, I put it on and turned to them, waiting. Dean pulled out my chair and I sat down in it.   
“You’re doing good.” He told me. “Just a few more steps and then you’ll be unconscious and won’t know a thing that’s happening to you.” He promised.   
I know in his mind, the mind of a man only witnessing and not directly experiencing any of this, it made sense. But to me, it was terrifying.   
They wheeled me out and towards the lab rooms. We stopped in front of a door labeled “Waiting Room”, and they pushed me in. I swallowed, looking around. This room was lined with two levels of cages, smaller cages to larger cages. Only a full had occupants, mostly children. There was an attending in the room and he came over to us, taking the chart from Dean.   
“Put him in a teenage crate.”   
“You sure? He’s kind of tall.” Amauro seemed skeptical.   
“He meets the height and weight requirements for the teenage. Don’t worry. They like the cozier crates. Make them feel safer.”   
Interesting theory. I’d like to try it out on him one day.   
“We’ll put him in fourteen.”   
They wheeled me over to crate number fourteen and opened the crate door.   
“You’re going to be released. You will then stand up, get on all fours, and crawl into the crate. You will go to the back and we will lock the door behind you. You will remain there until your surgery. Do you understand?”   
I swallowed, but nodded.   
The attending smirked. “Is this Paul’s kid?”   
“Yeah.” Dean nodded, chuckling. “He’s responding to it well. Best Human we’ve ever dealt with.”   
The locks clicked and for a split second I thought about running. But where would I go? How would I escape on a planet that didn’t even want to admit I was worth anything. In my underwear.   
So I got down on all fours and crawled into the crate. Amauro locked it behind me.   
“He’s usually pretty good so you shouldn’t have any problems with him. He’s been a little feisty because this is his first procedure, but a shock or two will calm him down. Call Hill if you have any problems.”   
“Will do. You two have fun at the lake.”   
“Oh yeah!” Dean laughed, and I listened to their footsteps as they walked away.   
Leaning back on the wall of my cage, I sighed. I could barely sit up, couldn’t stretch out my legs, and would have to curl up to lay down. But just then, the door opened and another guard walked in with a wheelchair.   
“I’ve got this little guy for Dr. Oros.”   
“Oh yeah. Thirteen.”   
They walked over and stopped in front of the crate right beside my own.   
“You’re late today, Frankie.”   
“I know, I’m sorry. He was taking forever to get dressed.”   
“Oh yeah? Didn’t he come from Pets?”   
“Yeah. His owner accidently hit him with his car and now he can’t walk.”   
I gaped.   
“So they gave him to us?”   
“Yep. We’re trying to get his legs working again, or at least see if we can figure it out.” The guard picked up the kid and set him inside the crate. “There you go, Jay. Be good and I’ll see you in a little while.” He waved through the bars as he locked them. “Here’s his chart. Make sure Oros reads the first page. Kid’s been having a lot more accidents at night.”  
“Hi.” The boy turned to me.   
“Hi.” I answered, surprised.   
“Most people think that pets can’t talk, but I learned a lot of words from my master.”   
“I can see that.” I gave him a small smile. “How old are you?”   
“I just got my pre-teen collar.” He told me, proudly. “I’m eleven.”   
Breathing out, I shook my head. “you’re just a kid.”   
The door opened, and I heard the guard leaves just as Knott entered. “I’m here for 63072.”   
“Yeah, he’s right here.” The attending walked over to my cage and opened it, but Knott shut it back quickly and bent down.   
“Adam, none of that nonsense from yesterday. Do you understand?”   
“Yes sir.” I nodded.   
“Very good. You’re going to get out, sit in this wheelchair, and go to the OR with me?”   
“Yes sir.”   
“Good boy.”   
Like a dog.   
But I obeyed. I crawled out. Stood up. Sat down. Breathed out quietly as the locks clicked. Closed my eyes as he rolled me away. Opened them as the OR appeared before me. The staff looking at me.   
“Good Morning, Adam.” Vernon looked over at me. “What we’re doing here today is exploring your lungs to see what makes them so different from other humans. We’ll cut a small incision, slide a camera up, and only open you up if we find something interesting. If that happens, you’ll be put to sleep, okay?”   
Not okay. But he wasn’t really asking for my approval.   
“Okay.”   
“Good. Let’s get him up here.” They unlocked me and Knott and Hill both came over and helped me onto the table. Were it not for them, I probably wouldn’t have made it, I was shaking so bad.  
“Try and relax.” Hill told me as they locked the cuffs. “It’s not as scary as it seems.”   
I opened my mouth to say “You’re the one holding the scalpel” but I found that my voice had been silenced by my collar.   
“Start a drip, please, Simmons.” Vernon called to the “lab workup” doc. “Hill, monitor his LOC. If he passes out I want to know why. Knott, come stand by me.”   
Simmons shoved a needle in my arm, Hill stuck some stickers to my forehead, and Knott began sterilizing the incision site.   
“We’ve given you a mild anesthetic. You’ll be fully aware but will feel no pain.” Simmons told me, acting like talking to me was stupid. This was the only time I’d seen him since I’d thrown up and I imagined he didn’t view me like a person as much as Knott and Hill probably did.  
A nurse slid an oxygen mask over my face and suddenly this all got a lot scarier.   
“Knott, go ahead and make the incision.”   
Pressure on my chest. I could only see their faces, which was scarier.   
“Good. Now slowly…” I could feel the camera sliding through my body.   
“Do you see that?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Why did Paul never test him for this?”   
“He probably didn’t have the resources without getting caught.”   
“Have you ever seen this in a human?”   
“Only ones on earth. None here. Ours are born without defect and the ones from the old world with defect were killed.”   
“Okay let’s open him up.”   
“Adam, can you count down from ten for me?”   
“Ten. Nine. Eight.”   
Paul. Paul was there.   
“What’s going on?”   
Black. 

I woke up in my cell, cuffed to my bed, which was now tilted up a bit so that my head and chest was higher than the rest of my body. There was a giant patch on top of my chest and I had an IV drip in my left arm. I felt miserable.   
“Good to see you’re awake.” Simmons walked in, glancing at the screen on the monitor I was hooked up to. Dean was behind him, arms crossed. “You look healthy.”   
“What’s the verdict?” I asked, not really expecting a response.   
“You have asthma.”   
I furrowed my brow. “That’s not a real thing.”   
Simmons smirked. “It was on earth. And since you weren’t genetically chosen to come to our planet, it’s not something we would have ever known about.”   
“You’re welcome.” I smirked back.   
He rolled his eyes. “Unless we decide to continue our study of asthma past you, you’ll be marked as unfit to breed.”   
“Too bad.”   
“Which means you’ll be fixed.”   
My jaw dropped. “No.”   
“Yes.”   
“You can’t-“ but a one shut me up easily in the current level of agony I was already in.   
“You’re a bit feverish, but everything else looks good.” He flipped up the patch and peered down at my incision. “Clean. No infection. Stay in bed and I’ll come assess you again in the morning. If your fever breaks I’ll clear you to visit Hill and Knott with no physical exertion on your part.”   
I sighed.   
He picked up a cup and pushed a button, raising my bed to a seated position. “I’m going to uncuff your hands. Do not try to remove any IV’s or stickers.”   
Nodding, I watched as he pushed a button and my wrists were released. He handed me the cup. “Slowly chew on a few of those ice chips. If you can keep them down, you can eat.”   
Scrunching up my nose, I glanced down at them. On the one hand, I was starving. On the other hand, I felt nauseous. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I didn’t exactly have the choice. Tentatively, I tipped a few chips into my mouth and began to chew and swallow.   
Simmons nodded with approval and turned to Dean, raising his eyebrows. “I’d rather you not leave his side until I return. If he keeps those chips down for the next thirty minutes, he can eat. I’ll be back at six am. Page me if anything goes wrong.”   
Dean gave a nod and then pulled over my wheelchair and sat down in it. “How you feeling?” he asked.   
“Like a boy who’s cuffed to a lab bed after being cut into against his will.”   
“Too bad.” He made a face.   
I smirked, liking Dean. “Can we talk?” I asked. “I mean, without you zapping me?”   
He shrugged. “We got thirty minutes to kill and you already think you’re my equal so why not?”   
Smiling for the first time in months, I looked over at him. “Why do you work here?”   
He made a face and eyed me, smiling back and thinking hard. “I guess I realized that if humans have to be lab rats, at least I can make it not terrible for them.”   
“So you treat all the humans like you treat me?”   
“Well…not all of them are like you. Some of them are little better than dogs. They were born in this lab. They lived in this lab. They died in this lab. Others are old and remember earth and they’re angry.”   
“And you seriously buy this BS that humans are lesser beings?”   
“It’s scientific fact.” He made a face. “Even you, in all your glory, have some strange ailment.”   
I scoffed. “So what? Fyns die all the time.”   
“Sure. In war. From old age. Not from asthma.”   
“And if you were on a planet where you were the lesser being, you’d be okay with them locking you up in a cell and forcing you to do everything they say?”   
“Of course not. But you have to understand, Adam. You’re a rare case. The other humans, this is all they’ve known. Even the ones from earth… they’ve only been taken into the lab or as breeders. None of them became slaves or pets. We’ve been breeding humans here for decades before Paul smuggled you in.”   
“So it’s okay because they know no different?” I clarified, angry.   
“Look, you should really be talking to Hill about this.”   
“Why can’t I talk to you?”   
“Because. We’re not supposed to be speaking anyway.”   
“Coward.” I snapped.   
“You’ve held down those ice chips. I’ll bring your food over, I’ll help you use the toilet, and then I expect you to go back to sleep or I will use a sedative. No talking.”


	7. Chapter 7

The food was bland. I didn’t need much help standing because it was my chest that hurt, my legs were only weak. And I did fall right back to sleep.   
When I next woke up, Simmons was there with Amauro. They must have switched while I was asleep. “He’s fine. He can meet with both Hill and Knott but no physical exertion. I don’t want him lifting anything at all, not even pushing down to stand up. Do you hear that, Adam?” he looked down at me. “Amauro is going to help you do everything today.”   
My guard and I glanced at each other annoyed.   
“You have a plastic patch to go over his wound?” Simmons asked Amauro, who nodded. “Good. I’ll schedule a follow up for tomorrow. You can bring him to Vernon’s office.”   
Amauro came over once Simmons was gone and placed a piece of plastic over my gauze patch.   
“What’s that for?”   
“To keep it dry while you’re in the shower. You know, you’re the only one whose questions we answer.”   
“That’s terrible.” I told him.   
“Dean told me about your conversation last ngiht.”   
“And?”   
“And…” he sealed it up and looked me in the eye. “I think you need to learn to keep your thoughts to yourself or your going to end up getting in a lot of trouble.”   
“I don’t care.”   
“Adam.” His tone was warning. “You’re on a planet of people who know you’re a human. There’s no where to run.” He unlocked my cuffs.   
I laid back on my pillow. “I don’t feel well.”   
“Simmons says your fine.”   
“I don’t feel fine.”   
“Too bad. Get up. Shower time.”   
“I don’t want one.” I felt tears drip from my eyes and wiped them away quickly.   
“Hey.” His voice was soft. “You’re going to get us both in trouble. Now suck it up. You’ve survived this long, you can make it another day.”   
“Sure.” I scoffed. “But then there’s the day after that. And the day after that. They’re going to make me a slave. And a pet. And then bring me back here for what? More tests? This isn’t how I want to spend my life.”   
Amauro made a face. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, Adam. It’s not your life. It’s their life. And they’re spending it how they want to spend it. You’re just along for the ride. Now come on or I’ll have to shock you.”   
I swallowed, wiping away more tears, and nodding.   
“Good.” He smiled. “Careful, don’t push. Sit up, pull with your abs.” he linked his arms behind my back and helped me. “They will kill me if this opens back up.”   
I certainly didn’t want Amauro dead, so I allowed him to help me up and over to the shower, which he thankfully let me take on my own. I dressed and he only helped with my shirt. I ate, and then it was to the wheelchair.   
Hill was greeted by a very sullen me. They had done a lot of things to me against my will, but this was the worst so far and I was not happy.   
“I heard about your talk with Dean last night.” He told me. “I actually watched the security tape. You’re very upset with us.”   
I scoffed.   
“Adam…” his tone warning. “Remember that I expect verbal answers.”   
“You didn’t ask a question.” I pointed out.   
“Fair.” He nodded. “What do you think about what happened to you? How did it make you feel?”   
“Violated.” I snapped. “Angry. Sick.”   
“One emotion at a time, please. Why violated?”   
“Because! They put to sleep and then cut my body open!”   
“Their body.” He reminded me. “Your body is not your body. Therefore you should not feel violated because they were only cutting open what already belonged to them.”   
“I don’t accept that.”   
“And I think, Adam, that’s the root of the issue here.” He nodded. “Until we can place our beliefs on the same foundation, we will never see eye to eye.”   
“I’m not changing my beliefs! No one owns me but me.”   
He nodded. “You’re turning pale. I think it was a bit too early to allow you to leave your cell. Amauro. Return him, please, and call Dr. Simmons to check in on him.”

The next morning, Hill visited me in my cell. Dean had gotten me up, cleaned, and fed and then told me to sit in my wheelchair. But instead of wheeling me out, he told me that we were waiting for someone.   
“Good Morning, Adam.”   
“Good Morning, Dr. Hill.” My eyes fell to the ground.   
“You were fairly upset yesterday. And while I try to validate many of your emotions, some of them are simply unreasonable, as I expressed yesterday. So, I’ve brought a guest with me today.”   
I glanced over to the doorway and my mouth parted.   
“Hey, kiddo.” Paul smiled at me.   
“Paul.” My tone didn’t reflect my emotions at all. It came out angry, but I really meant it to be happy.   
“I’m going to leave you two.” Hill smiled and walked out.   
“Where have you been?” I asked him.   
“Accounting for my actions.” He nodded. “Adam, I should never have lied to you. I should never have tried to hide you from Fyndor for so long. So for this, I am sorry.”   
I frowned. “So what? You should have just turned me over?”   
With a sad smile, he nodded. “Yes. You would have grown up knowing no different.”   
“How is that better?” I demanded, then immediately felt a shock on my neck and glared at Dean, who glared back.   
Paul sighed, squatting down to my level. “You’ve only got one week left here. They’ve done all the tests they want to do for now and we’re studying asthma.”   
“So I’m going to be a slave?”   
He nodded. “From here on out you’ll have lessons each evening on how to perform your duties. However, today I’m going to try to cram ten years worth of human schooling into your brain. So come on.” 

Paul wheeled me to another part of the building, about ten minutes from where I’d been staying. Dean followed at a distance.   
“Are you okay?” he asked, quietly.   
“No.”   
That was it.   
Paul stopped in front of a window, where beds of young, pregnant women lay. “The breeders get the best treatment. We need to be sure each generation is strong and healthy, so they’re taken care of. Exactly nine months before Birth Day, the breeders mate on their own Conception Day, which is our Wedding Day.”  
I remembered Paul telling me before that Humans carried their infants nine months in the womb. Fyns carried theirs for eight.  
“We then monitor each newborn to ensure it lasts the full nine months. Then, we give birth to it.” He rolled me to the right, to a new window. Lines and lines of baskets held human babies. “They remain here, in the nursery. We allow the mothers to tend for them to ensure that each child grows up with a connection to life. We’re not trying to breed beasts, of course.” I noticed a tiny red mark on the back of a baby one of the mothers was holding and frowned at it.   
“They are implanted at birth.” He told me. “You have a similar mark.”   
We moved on. “This is the toddler area.” There were three main rooms. A classroom, a playroom and lunchroom in one, and a sleeping area with dozens of beds. “Here they are taught who they are, how to speak, and how to interact.”   
Kids ran around, laughing and playing, while Fyns watched on. “They are taught to obey, and are always taught to put the Fyns before the humans.” We walked over to another window, a small room with a couch and a chair. A Fyn couple, young, were smiling down at a human child a Fyn had just brought out. “We’ll take it.” The man smiled, nodding, and the Fyn smiled back. He pulled out a collar and leash and locked it around the child’s neck, handing it to the man. “You can hold on to her until it’s time to go, and then we’ll need to sync up her collar before you can leave. You’ve made a very good purchase, Mr. Newton.”   
“They can buy anyone under the age of eighteen as a pet, understanding that the child may not have completed slave training and never will. If they want them to become a slave, it is very expensive to have them trained.”   
The next was a collar room. “They get their collars on their fifth Birth Day and move up to the school, where they are taught reading, writing, math, science, cooking, cleaning, and ettiquitte.” He showed me a classroom full of human children with tiny collars on. “it is here they begin to learn to never speak out of turn, to always obey, and their true place in society.”   
The next room was a play/lunch room, and then a dormitory, and lastly a large area with tons and tons of stations. “This is the testing room. They spend their ninth year in this room taking each test. Cooking and preparing meals, household chores, running a shop, working in a factory or a field, it’s all here. They begin to understand hwo their collars work, keeping them confined their serving area. They spend three months in household, three in shops, three in office, and three in field.” I peered in, watching the nine year olds slave away… literally. “They are bred to serve.”   
I swallowed. “Finally,” he pushed me along. “They are taken to the auction, where they are assigned to work for the government, or unassigned and sold to privates. You’ll experience this soon enough.” His voice was quiet and he pushed me back to my room. “There are over five million Fyns on this planet, and around five hundred thousand humans. Earth is gone. Fyns are stronger than humans in every way. You are the lesser species, Adam. I should never have let you think otherwise.” 

Paul returned me to my cell and left. Dean told me it was lunch time and unlocked me, wheeling my chair out and leaving me to think. 

A week or so after they’d explored my lungs, we all rendezvoused in an exam room, me strapped to an exam chair that allowed me to remain upright. While it wasn’t ideal, it was better than being flat on my back, exposed to the planet.   
They were all there: Vernon, Hill, Simmons, Knott… even Paul. While the other four conversed by a table, Hill came over to me. “Adam, what we’re doing here today are a few tests to see what triggers your asthma. We’ll be giving you injections, having you breathe in certain gases, and placing different items on your skin all to see the reaction your body has. Once we determine what sets off the attacks, we’ll be trying alternative methods of stopping the attacks, and finally of preventing them all together.”   
I looked up at him. “Can I ask a question?”   
“If it is relevant to this conversation, yes.” He told me, impatiently.   
“You realize that I am the only person in this universe that has this? If all of your humans here are asthma-free, and Earth is gone, why are studying this?”   
Hill smirked. “Adam, our goal is to understand everything we can about the universe. Just because something’s about to become extinct doesn’t mean it’s not worth learning about.”   
Extinct? Was he talking about asthma, or me?   
“For the first phase, we’ll be administering your rescue inhaler when you have an attack, so don’t worry. Just breathe in as you normally would. During our second phase, we’ll have it on hand, however we will try to seek a different result first with our own solutions.” He crossed his arms. “Do you understand?”   
I nodded. “Yes sir.”   
“Very good.”   
“Alright,” Knott came over, sliding on his latex gloves and walking behind me. I felt his hand before I saw it. “I’m just feeling your throat…” he worked his fingers up and down my neck and felt on either side of my jaw. Vernon was there suddenly, his light in hand, looking down my nostril, mouth, and into my ears. Then Knott again, with a long scope down my nose. I cried out, but Simmons held my head in place. Another scope down my throat. Then, they walked away to discuss their notes before we continued. If today was going to go as it just had, I was in for a long and miserable time. Paul glanced over at me, sadly, but joined back in with the others. Hill stayed with me, watching. He seemed to enjoy learning about how to responded to this pain and confusion. I hated him.   
They came back over with a small cart and a little computer on top, with a strange little block attached to it by a cord, and a long tube on the end. Simmons placed something over my nose, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe, so I opened my mouth.   
“Adam, breathe in as deeply as you can, and then blow out as forcefully as you can.” Vernon instructed, placing the tube in my mouth. I did as he asked, and he watched the screen. “One more time.” Obeying, I breathed in, then out.   
“Very good.” Knott told me. Vernon took that machine away, and Knott brought another one over that looked very similar. “Do the same thing, only this time when you blow out, do it as quickly as possible.”   
My chest was starting to hurt, but he shoved it into my mouth so I did what he said, breathing in deeply and finally blowing out as quickly and hard as I could. We did it once more, and then they took it away and removed the clip from my nose. I breathed in deeply and leaned my head back in my chair, my eyes closed. All I wanted was to go to sleep.   
I felt something on my arm, and opened my eyes to see Knott drawing little dots on it with a pen. “Simmons, this good?” he called over to the doctor, who was walking over with a small tray. They both looked at my arm, and Simmons nodded. “That’s fine. Hill, can you slide me that stool?” he set the tray on a small table, and then sat down on the stool that Dr. Hill gave him. Then, at each dot, he dropped a different liquid, took a tiny needle, and pricked the skin. They all watched, and waited. Knott was nearby, my inhaler in his hand making me feel a little bit better. At least I wasn’t the only one here who wanted me to live.   
Suddenly, one of the little dots started growing. And just like that my throat was closing up and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. I was gasping and wheezing, and Vernon turned to Paul. “How long?”   
Paul looked annoyed. “He can go a minute or two, but not long.”   
My eyes, wide, I watched as they all just stood there, witnessing my throat closing up. “Paul!” I tried to yell, but it didn’t really come out. Just when I started to see spots, Vernon nodded to Knott, and he pressed the inhaler to my lips and pushed the button. I breathed in deeply and immediately felt better, leaning my head back on the headrest and gasping for air. “You should’ve done it sooner.” I told them.   
“That’s up to us.” Vernon told me, quickly, and then turned back to the others. “So it was number two?”   
“Number four grew a bit as well, but not enough to provoke this reaction. The others stayed the same.” Simmons told him.   
“Very good. Let’s do the injection.” He ordered. Knott handed Simmons a needle, and Simmons cleaned the crux of my elbow and inserted the needle, administering the liquid. It didn’t hurt like some of the shots they’d given me did, and I was grateful. Nothing seemed to happen, and we all waited for about ten minutes, them all chatting lightly to each other, me finally finding out who won this season’s championship in Herice Races, and ultimately, nothing happening. Finally, they decided that I wasn’t going to react, and they turned to Knott. “He’s all yours.” Vernon instructed him.   
We made our way to the gym, and I tried to hide the flush in my cheeks as they all watched me put on my harness. It was humiliating when Paul was around for him to see me doing anything degrading. Probably because deep down, I still admired him.   
And then I ran on the treadmill until my asthma flared up, and my harness swooped me into the air, and they had to give me my inhaler. After a few minutes to recover, I swam for an hour or so until they decided it wasn’t going to happen again. I even lifted weights, but only running sparked an attack. Finally, they shed my harness from me and took me back to the exam room, trying phase two of this experiment. For the rest of the day, they set off my attacks with whatever had done it the first time, and then tried different ways to get it to stop. Drinks never went down, I just gagged on them and spit them up. Topical creams and medicines didn’t do it. Injections worked, but not quickly. Finally, breathing in certain gases seemed to be a winner, but that was exactly what my inhaler was. So they ultimately found that Humans had basically solved their own asthma issues. All that hard work and money wasted.   
Finally they tried one last thing. I was so glad to be done of this, and I was absolutely starving since I hadn’t been allowed to eat all day and we were now dangerously approaching dinner time. “This patch is going on your arm. We will then be placing a metal cuff over it. It shouldn’t slide, but could. If you touch this, try to take it off, or even breathe on it, you will be shocked. Do you understand?” Simmons glared at me.   
I nodded. “Yes sir.”   
“Good.” He placed a small, square patch on my upper arm and then Vernon handed him a metal cuff that they opened and then closed back around my arm. It covered the patch entirely and was fairly tight.   
“Keep a close eye on him, don’t leave his side all night and don’t let him eat until tomorrow morning. We’ll be in first thing to check on that patch, and if he has a reaction he can eat and shower, if he doesn’t we’ll go one more day.” Vernon told Dean.   
“What?” I furrowed my brow. “I’m starving!”   
“Adam, that’s enough.” Hill told me, firmly. “You can mange a while longer without food.”   
“I barely get enough as it is.” It sounded like I was whining, and I probably was, but this wasn’t fair. They couldn’t not feed me.   
I mean, they could, but that wasn’t my point.   
“Stop talking or I’ll shock you.” He dismissed me, turning back to the others as Dean got me into my wheelchair and started out.   
There was no free time that day… I went straight to the toilet.   
“Don’t know what you expect me to put in here, since no one will feed me.” I glared at Dean from the can. He shocked me, and I peed a little, then washed my hands. He pointed to my bed, so I laid down and he cuffed me down, pulling up a chair, my inhaler in hand. 

I eventually had an allergic reaction, thankfully. It happened before I went to sleep that night, my throat closed up and Dean administered my inhaler and called Simmons. The patch came off, and after a few tests to see how it had affected my body, I was given a very late dinner and allowed a few hours of peaceful sleep.   
The next morning when I woke up, Paul and Knott were there. Knott hadn’t been called the night before, so he checked me over before I ate while Paul waited patiently in doorway.   
“One more deep breath…” Knott moved his stethoscope a final time and listened as I let out a huff. “Very good.” His fingers came up to my neck and he felt for a pulse in each area, moving up to my temple, down to my wrist, my elbow, my groin, my knee, and finally my ankle and foot. As he was getting his last count in, the doors opened, and Vernon rushed in, looking exhausted.   
“Doctor?” Paul stepped back to allow him in. Suddenly, three guards appeared behind Vernon, and my jaw dropped. “What’s going on?”   
I had been good! I had listened to everything Dean and Amauro had told me to do. Why were they doubling my security?   
“Dr. Erikson, I’m afraid that the Board has reached a decision regarding your case.”   
Furrowing my brow, I watched, confused. Knott turned around to see as well.   
“What do you mean?” Paul crossed his arms. “They weren’t even meeting about it for weeks.”   
“They met about it last night, actually.” Vernon went on. “And they’ve decided to take you into custody until your hearing.”   
“Why? I’m not a threat to anyone.”   
“No, but Adam is our greatest secret of the moment and we can’t risk any word getting out.”   
“He’s been here for a month now and I haven’t said a word. I told all of our neighbors he’s staying with his biological grandparents.”   
“I’m very sorry, Paul. You’ll still be permitted to come to work, but you’ll be housed here and under guard at all times.” Vernon made a face like this whole thing was out of his hands. The guards moved in, and Paul held up his hands.   
“Okay, guys, come on. Hey.” He sighed.   
“Stop! He didn’t do anything wrong!” I lifted my head, crying out as they started to handcuff him.   
Amauro stepped closer to me. “Quiet, Adam.”   
“No! You can’t lock him up. He was just protecting me.” I screamed. “You can’t!”   
“Adam, it’s fine.” Paul called over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me.”   
“Wait! Stop!” I cried out. Amauro shocked me, and I laid my head back down, crying softly.   
“What’s going to happen to him?” Knott demanded.   
Vernon shook his head. “It depends. I’ve heard board members with opinions that range from giving the man a medal to putting him to death. And frankly, more of them are for the latter.”   
They couldn’t do this. I know that sometimes I hated Paul for what had happened, but he was still the closest thing I’d ever had to a family. He was still my father. He was quite possibly the only person on this planet I really loved. And now they were going to… I mean they couldn’t just…  
“Adam? Adam? Amauro! The inhaler.”   
I breathed in long, deep breaths, until I could see clearly again, and then laid my head down, exhausted. Knott checked me all over again, muttering to Vernon, but I just stared at the wall. How much longer would I be able to take all of this?   
After breakfast, Amauro took me to Simmons, who had a large crowd of interns in his work room, watching him. Of course, he chose that day to go over how to check a human’s body for pretty much everything, so I was cuffed to doorframe of poles with no door, butt naked. As he checked me from head down, I became increasingly stressed, and then he made it below my waist, I had another asthma attack.   
At dinner that night with Hill, I frowned. “Two attacks today. That wasn’t a coincidence. They pushed me until I had one.”   
Hill nodded. “Very good, Adam.”   
“So then Paul is fine?”   
“Yes. He is, for now.   
Swallowing, I set my fork down. “Is it over, or is there more?”   
“It’s over for today.” He told me. “You can rest.”   
I took a sip of water and made a face. “They don’t scare me as much, anymore. The asthma attacks. Because I’m surrounded by you all so I know I’ll be okay.”   
“That has been noted in my files.” Hill set his own cup down. “Your heart rate has gone down and your anxiety levels.”   
“Can I see Paul?”   
“I’m afraid not. He’s busy for the remainder of the week. Now finish up. It’s time for you to go.”


End file.
